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The Lonely Wolf

Summary:
To phase the first time: disorienting. Horrible. Terrifying. Painful. To become a monster: sickening. Strange. Agonizing. Estranging. This we know from Jacob. Must it not have been so much worse to be Sam? He did it all... and he did it all alone. A story in the perspective of the first of our beloved werewolves, Sam Uley. From shortly before the time of his first phase to his marriage to Emily Young.


Notes:
I disclaim. Add the story to your favorites! Just do it, people.


3. Chapter 3

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I feel the fear and fury rushing through me. It is strange. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just feel an unfamiliar anger zooming through my body.

My muscles shudder briefly, my heart pounds, my spine cracks and twists. It doesn’t… hurt, precisely. But it is terrifying.

“Sam?” Old Quil asks. “Sam, are you…”

I begin to speak, to tell him no, that of course I can’t stay away from Leah, that I love her, that we’re getting married. It comes out as a growl.

Old Quil turns and runs from the room, but not like he’s afraid- more in a practiced way, like it’s what he’s supposed to do in the event of some unnamed natural disaster.

Then thought disappears in favor of broiling emotion- fury. How dare he? How dare he? Leah is mine, and he can’t expect me to give up my own just because he says so- he has no right.

None.

I roar.

And then I run. It is a while, rushing through the forest, before I realize what I am- or rather what I am not.

The feeling of running is not what it used to be. There is a much heavier footfall, a sinuous motion of the back, an extra pair of feet, no arms pumping at my sides… it is not the body I know.

I am no longer Sam. I am unrecognizable, even to myself. I let out a great howl, and then I realize what it is that I am.

I look down on my arms, and see long dark cylinders, lined with black fur and tufted with sharp claws.

The legends… the legends are true. I’m not a man anymore. I’m a wolf.

Shouldn’t I be able to change back? What if I can’t? What if I’m stuck this way forever? Leah. I’ll never see her again.

What if I can’t see her anyway, if Old Quil’s right and I’m too dangerous, a monster…. What if I have to leave her?

What if I already have, in changing form this way, and I just don’t know it?

I feel a rumble near my center. Hunger. What do werewolves eat?

Probably some kind of meat. I look around, and find a deer. It is simple, with my new vast form, to strike it over the head and eat. I devour it in seconds, and find the raw meat not at all repellent, nor even strange to the new tongue.

I can’t tell Leah. That I’m certain of. It is impossible. The only way she’d believe me is if I showed her, and that’s an impossibility. I refuse to endanger her like that. And besides, I may not even be able to change back. What if I can’t? What if I’m like this forever? Not a man… an animal.

I run deeper into the woods, agony manifesting as fury, gasping as the rage fills my lungs in the stead of clear forest air.